


I Will Not Speak Of Your Sin

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brief mention of underage!Loki, Hidden Relationship, Hurt, Love, Mentions of Sex, Multi, Not a Happy Story, Slight Violence, Thor Feels, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:08:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started years ago before you even knew that such a love could exist. Storybooks speak of love that is bright and cherished and adored by all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>No storybook ever spoke of a dark love; a love that cannot be seen in the warm light of day. </p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Not Speak Of Your Sin

Hands.

Warm. Strong. Hard. Familiar.

Too familiar, you think. 

Hands that press you into the darkness of secret corners in hidden corridors. Hands that stroke you and touch and hold you until you gasp quietly, the heat of his body making you clammy and uncomfortable.

When the hands stop you feel empty. 

Cold. Lonely. Unwanted.

He always kisses you when he's done. A kiss that is full of hope and promise and words that cannot be said for fear of being overheard by unwanted ears, always listening, always waiting.

And you slip away, cloaked by the cover of darkness.

He never tries to stop you. He watches you go and you both know that it is better this way.

 

xxx

 

It started years ago before you even knew that such a love could exist. Storybooks speak of love that is bright and cherished and adored by all. No storybook ever spoke of a dark love; a love that cannot be seen in the warm light of day. 

In your youth you could not place it but you always knew that your love was not one to be shared. He would sneak into your room in the dead of night and he would kiss you.

It always began and ended with a kiss, sometimes becoming something more, sometimes not. He was older and wiser but innocent and naive in ways that you could not explain. 

He had bowed his golden head and watch you anxiously, fearing that you would hate him when he initiated that first kiss.

But you couldn't. How could you? When you were children you thought the sun rose and set with him, the mighty Thor.

Besides, you had loved him for centuries; it seemed only natural that your love should grow into something more physical.

"Do not hang your head." You had said. "You have done nothing wrong."

But he had. You both knew that for it churned in your guts, both of you uncertain as to what darkness had suddenly come to grip you. 

"You speak such softly spun lies." He had chuckled, ducking his head for another kiss. 

And you had reciprocated happily.

That is why you cannot blame him for the darkness. You had had your part to play as well.

 

xxx

 

Years passed.

You both grew older and wiser together, always together.

Your parents did not suspect a thing, blissfully unaware of the secret trysts in black alcoves, of whispered promises and stifled moans. 

He would lead and you would follow. Always.

His friends constantly watched you, their beady eyes marking every move, searching for something to hang you for.

They were blind to his touches, however. None of them found it odd that he constantly had hands on you, ruffling your hair, touching your cheeks, rubbing your back. They never seemed curious as to what happened when you shared tents on adventures far away from the castle, desperately rutting against each other, always hungry for more, never sated.

There had been one morning when she had looked at you oddly, her sharp eyes clouded with something dark. Your heart had crawled into your throat and you had waited, waited for her jeers, for her contempt. 

They never came. 

Instead she turned her attention back to the can of water she was boiling and looked impossibly sad.

 

xxx

 

He began to come to you every night. He would slip into your rooms, his smile wide and his eyes kind.

Some nights he would touch you until you thought you were going to break. Others he would simply lay beside you and hold you, smothering and suffocating you with his heat.

"I will never love another." he would vow, his face earnest and too honest.

You would say nothing, not trusting your silver tongue. He would always wait and watch you expectantly and you would stare back at him, silent and watchful.

Some nights he would grow impatient and demand that you answer him. Others he would simply lay there, hurt by your lack of affections. 

Sometimes you would feel guilty and you would climb atop his strong body and ride him until he forgot. 

Very rarely, however, you would kiss him with your skilled mouth and you would whisper to him, share your hopes and dreams with him, hopes and dreams that always involved him. 

Always.

xxx

 

One particular winter came and something darker than your love passed.

Thor left a boy and came back a man.

A foolish man, at that.

Fumbling about in the dark was not enough for him. He wanted more. He wanted to hold you in public, to touch you in his own chambers with the lights on so that he could appreciate your beautiful body.

He demanded that you know your place.

 Beside him, beneath him, above him. Always with him. Always.

He turned something inside of you. Something dark and bitter that threatened to choke you more and more with each day that passed.

You grew angry and dark and watched as he danced with blushing maidens with narrow, envious eyes. 

He knew that you could not come forth to the light, not like the maidens he touched with his hands, with your hands. 

He attempted to drag you forward regardless. He included you in every activity possible, invited you to every feast, ever noble event that cropped up. He would touch you and hold you and sometimes, when the mead had flown too steadily, he would kiss you. His warriors would laugh and jeer, thinking nothing of it but the banter and play of two brothers. His maidens would melt, thinking it sweet.

But she would watch, with her sharp, knowing eyes and she would make your stomach knot with nerves until you would have no choice but to push him away and into the arms of the nearest maiden.

 

xxx

 

"When I am King I shall ensure that every being knows where my heart truly lies." he had promised, his hands roaming, traveling, exploring planes of flesh and lean muscle that he knows better than his own.

You had smiled up at him, becoming the master of pretense, allowing yourself a small moment of respite from the darkness that slowly kills you.

He had grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with something bright that caused you to gasp breathlessly.

"And there shall be no more hiding, no more of this. I want our love to see the light." he decides.

And you had laughed, a loud, humorless, hollow sound. The brightness had faded from his eyes and you almost purred with delight. 

He was hurt and you found that, for once, you cared not.

 

xxx

 

He should know his place; trapped in the darkness with you.

 

xxx

 

On the night of his coronation you ride him until he remembers who he actually belongs to. You ride him in his newly acquired chambers until he shouts your name so loudly that you laugh.

And he holds you afterwards, kissing patches of skin and nosing his way through your dark, silky hair.

"I want you to be my queen." he had mumbled. "I want you by my side. Always."

But you slipped away into the darkness, leaving him with a confused, hurt silence.

 

xxx

 

His visits become less frequent and you hate that you care; hate that he has started something that he is too afraid to finish.

For he stills finds you in the darkest of corners. He still touches you with hands that now roam the bodies of desperate maidens, only too happy to please their new king. 

His mouth is still hot but it is sweeter, not unlike the juices that drip from the cunts of the women he has taken.

"Do you still love me?" You would tease, your long legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

His eyes would widen almost comically and he would nod, so honest that you would look away, afraid of what your eyes may reveal.

"Of course! I truly love you." he would pledge almost hopefully, as if you may finally give him what he craves.

But you would disappear in a puff of green smoke, leaving him standing there alone and angry and ashamed.

 

xxx

 

He finds a woman on Midgard, a mewling quim too helpless and too needy to ever truly hold the attentions of the mighty Thor.

It hurts you all the same.

So, you follow him because that is what you do. Always.

She is beautiful for a Midgardian, too beautiful for your liking. You are left with no choice; you burn her. 

You burn her until she is scarred and broken and a shell of the woman that Thor fell for.

He knows it is you. He tracks you down in Alfheim. He threatens you with Mjolnir but the hit never comes. Instead he smothers you with heated touches and fills you with an aching sweetness that really does bring a tear to your eye. 

You do not apologize and he does not ask why. You slip away as he sleeps and when he wakes he is not surprised.

 

xxx

 

There is a time where he follows you, tracks your every move. You lead him to Midgard once again and it is there that he meets with his beloved Avengers.

They chase you relentlessly as you wreak havoc across their realm, killing with an ease that shocks even you. 

You had been a gentle child before the darkness found you and swallowed you both. 

He is always the first to find you, the first to touch you and though he fights you, it is with a heavy, unwilling heart.  He does not wish to hurt you and always allows you to slip away before his Avengers may truly damage you.

And you come back to him at night and you let him fuck you until you are choking down your screams, your cool hands tearing at his back. 

You know they know. The one with the red hair always watches you with cool eyes, eyes that know only too well what you do to him. And you smile back at her, silently daring her to finally reveal the secret that holds you down and threatens to drown you.

But she never does.

 

xxx

 

His Midgardians die and he loses the will to make new friends. He returns to Asgard with a newfound sadness that silence his people. 

His is known as the lonely King of Asgard, a man that sits too high above his isolated throne. Long gone is the carefree, boisterous Thor of the past.

And he has you to thank. 

 

xxx

 

You always come back to him though. You both offer each other a brief respite from the loneliness that follows you both like some kind of putrid odor.

You can smell death whenever he takes you, his heated touches almost painful. The darkness has swallowed and taken you both and you know it is only a matter of time.

 

xxx

When Thor falls, you fall with him.

Together.

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> So. A little story that I wrote in under an hour! As usual, kudos, comments and concrit are more than welcome! Hope you enjoyed it!


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